


Choke

by sometimesimeow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Drinking, Face-Fucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 04:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8564533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesimeow/pseuds/sometimesimeow
Summary: Prompt fill “Sloppy gagging blowjob/facefuck, so where Bran has a sensitive gag reflex. So when it comes to blowjobs he usually stops after the first couple gags, and then moves to the main event. But Jojen tells him he likes it and asks Bran if he's willing to keep going and Bran agrees to try it.” Or,Jojen has a hot boyfriend. He may be a Stark, but he was well worth the trouble.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adrenaline_j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrenaline_j/gifts).



> I cannot, for the life of me, just write porn. Ages are being kept ambiguous but I imagine Jojen is at university age (18-22) and Bran is college age (16-18)—and by university and college, I mean the British definition, not the American definition. 
> 
> Prompt request is filled by the end of the one shot—not the middle (though there is a ton of sex in between). To adrenaline-j, I hope you enjoyed it!

In Jojen’s defense, he was two pints down and a blunt in when he saw Bran at a party, all bewildered and wide-eyed—the typical beacon of ‘come fuck me’ to a group of deviants. The second Jojen caught sight of the misplaced teen, he decided that short of killing his own sister, he was ready to do _anything_ to get that boy’s number. He disregarded his friends’ warnings— _that’s not just anybody, Jojen, that’s Bran Stark,_ _you know, the Stark_ —and made his move before any of the other predators could get their chance. He saw them circling out the corner of his eye and decided that one in particular—a Frey of all people—was drawing too close for comfort.

He walked over there with the intention of charming Bran for a casual but boundary-wary necking in the corner of the room. He tried to avoid sounding aggressive. He asked all the appropriate questions. What’s your name? Bran. How are you enjoying this party? It’s nice. What’s your year? Legal, which was not the answer that was given but the answer he heard—he cared little for the specifics. Bran’s lips were as big as apples and red as cherries from the fruit juice he was inhaling — non-alcoholic, his sister checked before leaving him alone to find one of her friends, and his skin flushed from witnessing the provocative natures of the guests. They were grinding their hips, kissing places where their eyes couldn’t see, and all other sorts of debauched activities. Jojen wanted to lick the red off those cheeks like icing off a cupcake.  

Despite their differences in social standing and overall general interests, the two got along like wildfire. They flirted for a good half an hour before Jojen invited Bran outside for a smoke—never mind that the host could give a rat’s ass if his guests lit a fag in the room. Bran agreed, perhaps a little too eagerly — _Jojen should have caught that_ —though he did not partake himself. Jojen did not mind. He said he was happy for the view—.

“Company,” Jojen rectified. The mistake was purposeful.

Bran giggled because _he knew that_.

When they were alone, Bran displayed a trace of insecurity. Jojen noticed that he kept turning his attention to his feet. Jojen was not one of those people who sought out paraplegics for the purpose of fetish, but someone as pretty as Bran probably got offers all the time. Jojen would confess, however, that there was some appeal to having Bran on his knees, clinging to Jojen’s body for support while his mouth was stuffed, unable to escape until Jojen released him—now, that was a _nice_ image.

When he was finished with his first cigerette, he lit another one for the sake of appearances. Bran did not mind the smell but he asked Jojen why he smoked so much.

Not one to miss an opportunity, Jojen revealed he smoked more when he was nervous.

Bran laughed. “Why would you be nervous?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jojen took another drag. “It’s a miracle I haven’t screwed up asking for your number.”

Bran smiled in the same contained manner as earlier. The kind of grin that made it known he was amused but did not want to show it. “Well, since you’re doing so well, I guess I should give it to you. But I don’t have a pen—” He paused. “Do you think you might have one in your car?”

Jojen had his hand in his pocket. He was about to whip out his cell phone when he caught the implication and froze. He dropped the device back in and took a good look at the boy in front of him. Bran brushed a piece of hair behind his ear. He licked his lips and batted his eyes—those cherry plush lips and long, lush lashes.

“I think I might have one at my flat,” Jojen choked out. 

Bran paused. Jojen thought he was too forward until Bran bit his lip and asked him to lead the way. He rolled a bit closer and fiddled with the hem of Jojens’ shirt. Jojen’s cock twitched when he realized that Bran was the exact height of his crotch. Jojen took the handles of the wheelchair and sauntered off to his beat-up car and prayed Bran’s chair fit. He did not care if he had to deconstruct the contraption—he was getting Bran in his bed before the night was through. His body went on autopilot. He was going to get laid. He was going to drive straight to his house and head into his bedroom and get ready for the greatest ten hours of his life. Halfway through his seatbelt, he recognized his crucial error.

“Fuck!” He swore. He banged his head against the steering wheel.

Bran stared. “What’s the matter?”  
“I can’t drive right now.”

Jojen lamented all the wrongdoings of his last life to get him to this point. Jojen swore he was never going to have another drink again. “I had a few drinks,” he confessed. He was high, too, if one was a stickler for the details. He was about to apologize to Bran when the younger boy rested a hand on his thigh. Jojen stilled. Bran hummed while he moved closer to Jojen’s crotch. He started to rub the outline of his cock.

“How long will it take you to sober up?”

Jojen stifled his moan. His bulge was growing and the Stark wasted no time seizing his zipper and releasing his constrained manhood.

“A-about an hour? Maybe less?” Jojen was ready to trade his left ball for the latter.

Bran did not seem disappointed. “I can wait an hour.” He squeezed the shaft. Jojen’s fingers clenched around the steering wheel. He let go and laid back so that Bran could experiment.

Bran was eager for Jojen’s reactions. He tried to recall the videos he watched and wondered which techniques he could use to get Jojen to come all over his face. “We can talk,” Bran suggested. The older boy was dripping with pre-cum and he was soaking Bran’s hand. The smell of Jojen’s raw dick was musky and masculine. Bran was gagging for a taste. He refused to stop his ministrations in fear of ruining the mood. He did not want his first blowjob to be given inside a car. The boys and girls in the movies made it seem like there was nothing better than being throat fucked by a fat dick and Bran wanted his first cock to be special. 

“Yeah, we can… _fuck_ …talk," Jojen groaned. Bran was holding him like a vice. His hands were coarse from his years on the chair. Jojen closed his eyes and thrust upwards. He tried to keep calm—tried to do anything but imagine Bran’s body on top of him, sinking onto his cock all hot and harsh and virgin tight. They were parked on the street—anybody could see _perfect Bran Stark_ giving a handjob to _poor Jojen Reed_. They could see how badly Jojen wanted to be inside Bran. His cock was ready to explode from the amount of cum he was building up and at this rate, he was going to plug Bran up until his hole was as wet as a whore’s cunt.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jojen breathed out. He was so fucking _close_. Opening his eyes took all the power he had. “We’re not going to talk, are we?”

Bran’s answer was cut short when cum started spewing out of his partner’s cock. A huge glob landed on Bran’s face. Before Jojen could apologize, he felt something warm and wet touch his dick. He jerked up, surprised to see Bran licking away. The young boy had the audacity to look _smug_.

“No,” Bran answered when he was got back from his test tasting. Jojen was not allowed a single protest when his shaft was slurped up. He groaned. Bran’s mouth was _heaven_. As soon as the younger boy got off his cock, he asked Jojen if he was sober yet. He licked his hand clean and smiled as wholesome as pudding on a summer’s day. “I really want to give you my number.”

***

That night, Jojen never received his promised blowjob. Bran’s gag reflex kicked in and the boy was drooling more cum than actual saliva. For his trouble, Bran gave him his virginity and the ride of his life. Following the second failed attempt of giving head, Bran offered him a relationship and the promise of restless night and days of sin. Jojen was once advised to never make deals under the influence but—

Bran was _so_ _fucking cute_ underneath him.

“Let’s go on a date tomorrow. We can play with my dog and I can get you off in the park.”

Being Bran’s boyfriend sounded _wonderful_.

“You’ll have to meet my parents, eventually. I already told my sister I was with you.”

Then again, Jojen never found the appeal of being in a relationship. He was not sure he was ready to be committed. For Bran’s own good, he should break it off before either of them got attached.  

“You’ll love my house. My siblings have this competition on who can christen the most bedrooms. I really want to join them.” He kissed Jojen’s chest. “You’ll help me, right?”

The best things in life required sacrifice.

***

The next morning, Meera rang up his phone with half a dozen calls and a hundred text messages. She was wondering what he was thinking—propositioning _Bran Stark_ of all people. Jojen, on the other hand, was less concerned about the consequences of his actions and more awed by the swiftness of the gossip.

“His parents are going to throttle you! What were you thinking? The boy is the definition of jailbait!”

“He told me he was legal.”

“Told you? _Told you?_ Jojen, please tell me you checked with one of your mates before you climbed into bed with him.”  

Bran was lying on his chest with his bare ass opened for an attack. Jojen walked over to fondle the delectable buttocks and even stuck his finger inside to remind himself of their pleasure they shared. Bran mewed. He was still sore.  Jojen stopped listening the second he saw Bran’s teasing smile. If the boy was a cat, he’d be swishing his tail, waiting for Jojen to present him with a plate of cream. Jojen told his sister he was busy and would call her later.

“Jojen, if you hang up on me, I swear I will—!”

He hung up.

“Who was that?”

“My sister,” Jojen answered. Bran pulled him into a kiss and squeezed his arm, indicating that he wished to be turned over. Jojen complied and rolled him on his back. He crawled back into bed and climbed on top of Bran. He leaned down to kiss him. When they parted, Jojen was practically reverent.

Bran giggled at the pure bliss on his face. “What was she calling about? She sounded angry.”

Jojen planted sloppy kisses on Bran’s chest. “She called to warn me about your family. Said that if I fell for you, I’d splatter on the ground.”

Bran grimaced. He wore the same apprehension last night when Jojen was stuffing his wheelchair into the backseat of his car. It was an expression that implied he was afraid Jojen would find him more trouble than he was worth—that he would decide a good fuck was not worth the drama that came with dating a Stark. Jojen sought to alleviate his pain. He embraced Bran’s lips and kissed him until they were both breathless.

“Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,” he promised. Bran’s went wide. Jojen enjoyed the delight for a moment before slipping between Bran’s thighs. He was still wet from last night. Jojen heard the word _virgin_ and decided that going raw was well worth the risk. Bran squirmed beautifully when Jojen gave his hole a thorough licking. If he was going to get killed—he was going to reap the benefits presented to him.

The older boy spread those thighs as far apart as he could muster and propositioned his cock between Bran’s cheeks. Bran loved the way he was being manhandled. He wrapped his arms around Jojen to keep himself balanced and bit down on his boyfriend’s shoulder to keep from screaming. Jojen shut his eyes to really focus on pounding into Bran. His grunts poured directly into Bran’s ears.

“Fucking hell, you feel fantastic. I could spend all day breeding you.” Jojen worked him up with reckless abandon. He tried not to come too soon. Bran already had three loads from last night and the cum settled to form a nice little pouch in his stomach. Jojen found the sight especially arousing—like Bran was pregnant with his children.  

“Jojen!” Bran whimpered. “Please! I’m so full right now!”

Bran never specified what the ‘please’ was referring to. Jojen was not being unreasonable when he reference it as a plea for _more_.  Before long, Jojen was unloading into him, flooding Bran’s insides with another huge load of cream. Bran screamed so loudly Jojen had to kiss him to keep him quiet. By the end of their lovemaking session, Bran’s lips swelled like balloons and showed no signs of receding to their natural size. Jojen wondered how much kissing was done to produce such vivid results. Either way, Jojen was getting his cock back in that throat by tomorrow.

***

In all honesty, Jojen was tempted to call work and tell them he was busy fucking his boyfriend. His manager would celebrate the end of his promiscuous nature—at the very least, he would rejoice in the knowledge that Jojen will finally stop sleeping with the customers.

Unfortunately, his bills did not pay themselves and his boyfriend had somewhere else to be. He knew from the frustrated conversations in the bathroom that Bran was supposed to have return home _last night_. When he was done being screamed at, Bran called out for Jojen to help him out. Jojen dressed him and carried him to his car. The hassle of bringing the wheelchair up outweighed the positives of Bran’s self-sufficient mobility. When he arrived at the Stark mansion, he offered to wheel Bran in. He hoped the boy would refuse. Meeting the parents of what was supposed to be a casual fling was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon.

Bran fiddled with his fingers and told him it was fine if he didn’t. “I don't want to be a hassle.”

Jojen locked his car and took him all the way to the entrance.

Bran reassured him that his parents never answered the door. They were busy with their own projects. Jojen had the good sense not to ask what those projects were. Despite knowing Bran for less than twenty-four hours, he wanted to leave a favorable impression. He rang the doorbell like a gentleman would and should have resorted to a simple, chaste kiss on the cheek. Instead, he saw that Bran’s lips were still swollen and decided ‘what the hell’ in the cavalier manner his sister hated because he was only nonchalant when it came to the hard stuff but chose to mood over things unseen.

Bran squealed in surprise when Jojen leaned in. He melted into the kiss against his better judgement. When the door open, they were a second too late separating.

“Bran?”

Oh fuck. Bran sweated bullets when he heard a voice that was most definitely not the help and most certainly his mother. She was stunned by the handsome boy accosting her son with his lips and before giving a greeting, asked him who he was. Jojen coughed and answered with his name. Silence proved the insufficiency of the response. Bran interrupted the pre-interrogation by saying he was a friend. _Just a friend._

Catelyn Stark believed the lie as she was inclined to believe a shark’s bite was a gesture of friendship. She remembered her manners and asked Jojen to join them in for some tea. She wanted to thank him for bringing her son home safely.

“He has work,” Bran pointed out—the same time Jojen made the exact excuse.

“Well, he can spare half an hour. If he wants, I can call his employer and tell him he was held up because of me.” No one questioned the Starks.

Jojen was forced inside by propriety and fear. Mrs. Stark was as fearsome as the rumors. He loathed the day he met the patriarch, who he heard was as cold as blizzard and was terrifying as an avalanche to a wolf with a broken leg. She asked him all the wrong questions and when his answers were too vague for her liking, she asked them again with force. Bran butted in half the time but it was not enough. Exasperated by his mother’s undue diligence, he requested a moment of privacy. Jojen watched as the two left to discuss other matters in the living room. He heard harsh whispering but nothing decipherable.  After a few moments, Bran came in. He was worn but not disappointed. Mrs. Stark followed. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Jojen. I heard you will be coming over often.”

Apparently. “Yeah, I suppose I will be.”

“Well, you are welcomed here as long as Bran prefers your presence. And don’t be shy. We will be getting to know each other very well.”

Oh fuck him.

He took his opportunity to escape. Jojen walked out the door with the incessant feeling that he was being watched. Bran gave him the courtesy of seeing him out. He apologized for his mother’s behavior. “It’s alright,” Jojen answered, though there was as much truth in his response as Hitler’s promise to Poland not to invade. Jojen knew better than to kiss him this time. No matter how cute Bran was, he doubted anybody was worth this much trouble—

“I understand if you don’t want to see me again. My family is pretty intense. If you want to back out now, I won’t blame you.”

Fuck him to hell.

Jojen leaned down and kissed Bran on the lips. Bran was surprised but lean into the sensation. He looked so happy when they parted. He tried to reach up. Jojen complied by bending down for another kiss but his efforts were refuted. Instead, Bran whispered into his ear that “he couldn’t wait to get Jojen down his throat again.” Jojen was sure he felt the stab of a dagger against his back.

Jojen was sure he felt the stab of a dagger against his back.

***

Despite his paranoia, Jojen was helpless against Bran’s pretty pleas and wandering hands. Bran kept his hands full. When it became acknowledged that he was an official contender in his siblings’ contest, he worked tirelessly to catch up with them. Jojen was reluctant to participate at all.

Jojen was reluctant to participate at all.

They were months into their relationship and everyone was almost head to head in numbers. Jojen was sure his dick has gotten more ass in two months than it had in two years. Things became especially intense when Bran’s sister resorted to dirty methods to win.

She used their own _brother_.

Bran complained about the act for weeks. There was no doubt that Rickon catching them in a compromising situation was planned. Ever since Rickon squealed on their bedroom activities—and Bran will testify to his dying breath that he _locked the damn door_ —the two of them have been placed under prison worthy supervision.

Bran was not deterred by the obstacle. Jojen needed more convincing.

Bran was on his knees, supporting himself by grabbing onto Jojen’s hips while the older boy was sitting on the bed. Jojen tried to remove the mouth from his cock. His boyfriend was fucking gorgeous when he was desperate. He sweetened his appearance by appearing in boy shorts and a tank top. The door was closed—a forbidden gesture only allowed because his parents were out and Bran _forgot_ to mention that when he invited him over.

“Bran, your parents are going to kill me when they catch us.”

Bran smiled innocently. He was tickling the tip of Jojen’s cock with his tongue. Jojen groaned when he licked the glans. Jojen was a sucker for blowjobs. They never got past the basic lick and suck, though. Bran’s gag reflex prevented them from engaging in any thorough deep throats or brutal face fucks that drove Jojen bonkers. It was his one defense against the nymphomaniac.

Jojen cringed when Bran serviced the first half of his cock with developed dexterity.

“Fuck Bran, have you been practicing?” 

Bran smiled around cock. He removed his mouth with a ‘pop.’ “Just saw a few things online I thought you'd like.”

Jojen leaned back on the bed and pretended that reason was not screaming in the back of his head to stop. He was done resisting.

Bran started to bob his head up and down; he was licking and slurping up the manhood as if it were the last popsicle on earth. Jojen could not help himself. He bucked into the boy’s mouth, forcing his cock into that tight throat. At the sound of Bran choking, he pulled back. “Fuck! Bran, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

Bran nodded. Though he could not relieve his coughing right away. Jojen told him to stop if he couldn’t handle it. The suggestion made Bran flush with shame. He told Jojen he could handle it. “I know you think it’s gross when I gag but…”

“What?”

Bran looked up at his boyfriend. Jojen seemed genuinely surprised by the comment.

“You always stop me whenever I try to deep throat you!”

“Because I think you’re getting hurt. I don’t—!” Jojen sighed. “I don’t hate it. In fact, I…” Jojen trailed off. He was about to redo his pants when Bran forced his hands away.

“Tell me the truth,” he ordered, more Stark-like than ever.   

Jojen sighed. He could not just tell his boyfriend the truth. The truth was that the image of Bran taking him in balls deep down his throat, being used as nothing more than a breathing masturbatory tool was more than he could handle. He wanted to choke Bran on his cock until he was crying and gagging himself unconscious. He wanted to violate that mouth until the boy was coming from being Jojen's personal gel sleeve. 

“I like it,” Jojen told him. Feeling bold, he confessed that he wanted to “Fuck Bran’s mouth like he was made for a rough pounding and use his stomach as a cum dumpster.”

The words sent a thrill down Bran’s spine.

Jojen justified his perversions by asking Bran if it was alright to proceed with the request.

Bran flushed down to his pretty cock. He agreed that it would be an interesting thing to try—trying not to display too much eagerness to do so. 

Suddenly, Jojen was all for secret trysts. “Bite if you want me to stop,” Jojen warned. Bran nodded.

Jojen took a deep breath. He put both his hands on the back of Bran’s head and shoved half of his cock down his throat. The younger boy gagged deliciously.

Bran tried to relax his throat and force more of it inside. It didn’t change the fact that he found it hard to breath—he was _choking_. Tears welled up in Bran’s eyes but he shut them to keep his concentration. He could do this. His cock twitched with determination.

Jojen did his best not to lose control. Bran was tighter when he was struggling and the sensation was glorious. He wanted Bran to at least get a few seconds of adjustment before he started thrusting. He must have took too long because Bran reflex kicked in and the muscles in his throat tried to push Jojen out. Instead of making him want to leave, Jojen lost it. He popped his entire cock into Bran’s throat and started ramming inside like he owned the boy. 

“God Bran, your mouth feels amazing! I could just come gallons into you all day!”

Bran's mind was a mess. With no room in his throat to swallow, his saliva dripped out of the spaces in his mouth. His entire face was drenched with tears, drool, and cum.

Jojen let out a low moan, indicating he was close. Deciding that he may never get another chance like this again, Jojen wrapped his hands around Bran’s throat to get a better handle on his cock. He squeezed a little. Bran’s body took it as a sign to tighten and clench against the intruding object. Jojen’s entire vocabulary was reduced to harsh grunts and forceful groans. Bran’s coughs were suffocated by the hard on making him his toy.

Truthfully, Jojen liked the feeling of the struggle. He rocked himself back and force, riding the wave of his orgasm to the fullest. After a moment, he came—forcing more cum into the boy’s stomach than he thought he could produce. Once he re-entered a proper state of mind, Bran would point out that Jojen was thicker than usual and his volume was immense. He could already feel the semen piling in his throat. By the time Jojen pulled out, Bran’s face was the picture of violation.

Jojen made a move to kiss his lover but the boy was unconscious. To Jojen’s relief, his cock was flaccid and there was cum on the floor. Bran came from being face fucked. Jojen felt pride at being able to invoke such a reaction. Believing that certain futures had better moments of discussion, Jojen picked him up so that he could lie on the bed. He massaged Bran’s throat which he was sure was suffering from internal bruising.

He was so entranced by what just happened, he did not bother to clean up right away. His soft cock was still out. The door to Bran’s bedroom was about to open.

Jojen did not notice any of these things until he heard a beastly cry from the doorway.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I feel so bad because this request came two months ago and I only started working on it now! I am sorry for my unprofessionalism! And because I didn’t think about it for so long, I forgot to ask whether they wanted this done in the present or within the ASOIAF timeframe. :( I went with present time because I love looking at Thomas Brodie-Sangster in modern clothing. :)
> 
> 2\. Also, I made the Starks sound awfully mafia-like in this story. Again, this was supposed to be pure porn and it wasn’t. Things happened. I happen to be a weirdo. 
> 
> 3\. This is one of three (four GoT requests and I have one Naruto requests). Will be getting that all done soon. 
> 
> 4\. Please follow me on Twitter [@cheshiresua](https://twitter.com/CheshireSua) for more alerts or previews to my future oneshots and prompt fills.


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